


Photo Finish

by kethni



Category: Veep (TV)
Genre: F/M, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 22:37:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21187130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kethni/pseuds/kethni
Summary: Kent's lock screen is more informative than Sue expected





	Photo Finish

It was completely ridiculous. He was constantly underfoot. Every time she looked around; he was just… there. As if he any right to exist in the same universe as her. Yet now, now when she _needed_ to talk to him, he was nowhere to be seen! It was infuriating.

She stalked into his office. Technically she shouldn’t have been in there. He was the senior staffer now, only second to Ben and that only just. His security clearance was ludicrous. He probably knew all about aliens or Russian bases on the moon or whatever idiocy that the Powers That Be didn’t think that she was qualified to know. There could be _anything_ in his office. Any kind of information that could shake democracy to its core.

What there was, was a stack of expense claims, his cell phone, and a bulging folder of what turned out to be predictions for various crop yields over the next eighteen months.

She would have found moonbases or aliens much more interesting. Although they wouldn’t have answered her question either.

Frankly, if he was going to run off when she wasn’t looking, and when she actually needed his input, then it was entirely his own fault if she looked on his computer or went through his cell. Except of course she wasn’t going to look on his computer. God knew what kind of alarm that might sound. She wouldn’t put it past him to tell people either. Oh yes, he’d probably _love_ the opportunity to get her in trouble. To get some petty revenge for being dumped. Because she had dumped him. It was 100% HER choice. Not his. No matter what he might claim. No matter what she’d said when she’d had one too many Martinis at the Christmas party. She was just… confused. That was all. She couldn’t be held responsible for getting a little mixed up with what she was saying.

Not that he was petty. That was probably the worst part. He wasn’t petty. He didn’t take every opportunity to insult her. It was as if he didn’t even care that they’d broken up. It was disrespectful. She deserves his anger and bitterness. What she _got_ was a kind of mild discomfort and that was generally only when he noticed that she was being particularly blunt in her irritation with him.

His cell lit up and a handful of chords sounded. He had a text. The preview said something about a report, but she didn’t particularly notice that. What she noticed was his wallpaper.

It was a picture of her. She was side on, sat on the floor, cuddling a large dog. She only had a glimpse before the phone screen turned off again, but she thought it was her mother’s husky, Vlad. She’d never seen the picture before. It had obviously been taken when she was looking after Vlad while her mother was on her cruise to the Caribbean. Kent _had_ stayed a couple of those nights. She didn’t remember him taking the picture, but he obviously had. He’d taken it, he’d kept it, and he was using it as wallpaper on his cell.

Sue pursed her lips. Obviously, it was outrageous. How dare he. That was obvious.

She wasn’t a woman given to obsessing about other people’s motivations or thought processes. Frankly they were boring. Other people were rarely worth the effort. Men were simple creatures. Satiate their appetites and everything else was window dressing.

Except, it had been several years since they parted ways. She was _married_. She had moved on. That was what normal people did. Granted, nobody would call him “normal,” but he certainly was within some kind of… statistical norm. He wasn’t some kind of drooling, human skin wearing, crazed psychotic living in a creaky old house with the disinterred corpses of his immediate family.

As much as she disliked it, the fact was that he had dated women before her. As much as she would dislike it, the fact was that he would date women after her. He was attractive, intelligent, solvent, and with a good job. He was respectful, affectionate, and good in bed. A little too affectionate, truth be told, and a little too passionate. But you couldn’t have everything. As much as she hoped he was miserable, it made no sense that he wouldn't be dating someone else. It was an insult really, an insult to her that one of her exes wouldn't be deemed highly desirable.

Another text. She got a better look at the photograph. Definitely Vlad. She was open-mouthed in the picture, either laughing or talking. A nice picture of her, she would grudgingly admit. She was wearing her sweats and a headscarf. No makeup.

Sue picked up his cell. She idly tapped the screen. The lock message came up. The code was four numbers long. That wasn't like him. Why not a fingerprint? A four-digit code was something that could be guessed by a person who knew you well. It wouldn't be his birthday. Far too obvious. Or his mother’s birthday. It wasn't his favourite number, that was too long and some strange math thing. None of his cats had names that could be expressed as numbers. A film? A song?

A book. Sue tapped in _1984_. The cell unlocked. Ha. She supposed she should check it at some point, if only to work out if it was deserving of all the fuss. Obviously, she didn’t care if Kent’s opinion of it was valid. It probably wasn't. It seemed that anything a lot of people raved about was immediately set up to fail. She sat down on his desk. Now she had his cell unlocked, the question was, what to do with it. She had never attempted to unlock her husband's cell. Not out of some mewling concern for his privacy, while naturally being protective of her own, but because she had never been interested enough. There wasn't a problem. She wasn't one of those women trapped in a marriage. It was fine. He was fine. Everything was... fine.

Better than furious arguments and explosive reconciliations. Better than her pulse racing and her palms sweating. Those were unnecessary. Melodrama. She didn't need them. She certainly didn't want them. She and Kent had been a terrible match. No good for themselves or each other. If he wished to dwell on their failed relationship, then that was his error.

She opened up the “gallery” app. Perhaps she should change the wallpaper. That could send a message. It would have to be a new picture but for preference one that didn’t _necessarily_ incriminate her for hacking into his phone. Hmm.

He had a ridiculous number of photographs of cats. She recognised Archimedes, a huge ginger tom cat, but not the much younger calico or tortoiseshell cats. It took her a moment to realise that there were no recent pictures of Fibonacci.

Oh. She had liked Fibonacci. He had been a small grey cat with his mismatched eyes. He was wildly affectionate with everyone. Almost like a dog.

Sue set her shoulders and scrolled back a little. Boats. Motorbikes. The sky. A gorgeous sunset across the ocean. Almost no pictures of people until she came to a picture of his nephew. He was clearly a few years older than the last time that she’d seen him. His features were sharpening into something more notably masculine, but he had surprisingly pretty eyes. She could definitely see a shadow of Kent there.

A little further back and more of the same, until she hit one of a party. She thought it was Gary’s birthday party. Of course, Gary’s party was the only staff birthday party that was decently catered, Gary organised it himself. The centre of the picture was Selina drunkenly yelling at Ben. Sue was off to the left, perched on a desk, gazing into the distance. She certainly didn’t look as if she was listening to a word that Ben was saying. It was an unsettling image. She didn’t _like_ the idea that Kent had captured her in a moment of reverie. It wasn’t her. The photograph of her with Vlad wasn’t her. Wasn’t that typical of men? To capture women in amber wasn’t enough, oh no, they hadn’t to warp women into something they weren’t.

Sue took a piece of paper, neatly printed a message on it, took a photo with the camera app, and set it as Kent’s wallpaper. She considered deleting the two photographs. It would have served him right.

Instead she locked the phone and put it down carefully where he’d left it. Let him find that when he came back.

***

Amy wasn’t listening. That was fine. Amy rarely listened to anyone that wasn’t talking about work. Sue didn’t need her to listen. She was there to allow Sue to talk without people staring and having her dragged off to a psychiatrist. Also, she was there for Sue to look at and feel more secure in her choices. It was perhaps a little unfair. Amy’s choices were notoriously terrible. Making better choices than dating Dan or screaming at Selina about food in buckets was a low bar. Nonetheless, it did make Sue feel better. Not that she needed that. She felt fine. She was fine. She was happy. Obviously.

Amy looked up from her cell. ‘Kent’s stalking you?’

‘What?’ Sue lowered her glass of wine. ‘No.’

‘He’s taking photographs of you when you’re not looking,’ Amy said. ‘That’s fucking creepy.’

Sue rolled her eyes. ‘Two photographs and one of those was me playing with my mother’s dog. We were dating at the time.’

Amy pulled a face. ‘You were dating your mother’s dog?’

Sue glowered at her. ‘I was dating Kent when he took the photograph.’

‘That’s what you say,’ Amy muttered. ‘What kind of dog?’

‘A husky. How is that relevant?’

Amy shrugged. ‘It’s less creepy than a tiny little dog.’

Sue narrowed her eyes. ‘Again, I was dating Kent, not the dog.’

Amy shrugged. ‘This is D.C. It honestly wouldn’t surprise me.’

‘That says far more about you,’ Sue retorted. ‘Although given your dating history a literal dog would probably be an improvement.’

‘Same amount of leg humping,’ Amy suggested.

‘But you can get them neutered without going to prison,’ Sue said.

Amy sniggered.

Sue sipped her wine. ‘Have you spoken to him recently?’

‘Who?’

‘Kent.’

Amy looked up from her phone. ‘You hacked his phone, Sue, you need to step back before stuff goes completely to hell.’

Sue tensed. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Sure, you don’t.’ Amy put her phone down. That was never a good sign. ‘Why the hell did you get married?’

‘Excuse me?’ Sue demanded.

‘You’re totally still got a thing for Kent.’

‘No, I don’t!’

Amy leaned forward. ‘You hacked the man’s phone! You’re always sniping at him in public!’

‘He’s using a photograph of me –’ Sue began.

Amy waved her hands. ‘Not the fucking point. _He’s_ not married. Even if he’s stalking you –’

‘He’s not.’

‘ – the point is that _you_ clearly still want to… do whatever it is that you two do.’ Amy pulled a face. ‘What’s your husband’s name?’

Sue blinked at her. ‘What?’

‘Your husband’s name,’ Amy said with slow deliberation. ‘I have no fucking idea what it is. We have lunch at least once a week. We go out for drinks a couple of times a month. I know about your mom’s hip operation and your sister’s deadbeat girlfriend. I knew when you had that scare about the cyst in your breast. But the name of the man you supposedly fucking love, the one you’ve promised to be with forever, I have no idea. You literally never talk about him. Ever.’

Sue flinched. ‘I rarely have anything to say.’

Amy folded her arms. ‘You always have lots to say about Kent.’

Sue’s lips twitched. ‘He’s very annoying.’

‘_Jonah_ is very annoying,’ Amy said. ‘The two of us together don’t talk about Jonah half as much as you along talk about Kent.’

‘Jonah isn’t remotely as interesting to discuss,’ Sue said stiffly.

Amy rolled her eyes. ‘Kent is interesting for _you _to discuss because _you_ have a thing for him. Honestly, at this point Sue, it’s close to a fucking obsession. If you think whatshisname doesn’t know you’re into some other man, then either you’re an idiot or he is.’

‘That’s not –’

‘Nope,’ Amy said. ‘I’m bored. Just fucking sort it out, Sue. You’re too smart for this bullshit and I’m just done listening to it.’

***

She had no idea what he was talking about. Every day they had dinner together and he rambled on about… work or… something. A few of the same names popped up from time to time. She presumed they were his colleagues. Or perhaps they were the names of clients. Or projects. Just the idea of finding out which was exhausting.

‘I don’t care,’ Sue said.

He stopped talking. He wasn’t as surprised or taken aback as she expected. ‘I know,’ he said.

‘You know?’

He pulled a face. ‘You have made it _abundantly _clear by your general demeanour.’

Sue narrowed her eyes. ‘You have no interest in my life.’

‘I at least know where you work,’ he retorted. ‘Damn it, Sue, I have the decency to listen to you ranting. Why can’t you extend me the same courtesy?’

‘I have,’ she said. ‘And now I have had enough.’

He was quiet for several seconds. ‘You want a divorce?’

‘Do you?’

He shook his head. ‘You don’t get to make me the bad guy,’ he said.

Sue rolled her eyes. ‘Do you honestly think that I care about that?’

He laughed. ‘Of course not. You care about the pre-nup.’

She snorted. ‘You mean _my _pre-nup to stop you getting a share of _my_ money?’

He paused. ‘Oh.’

‘I’m keeping the house,’ she said, walking towards the door. ‘Be out of it tomorrow.’

‘Where are you going?’ he called after her.

‘To see a man about a photograph,’ she said.

The End


End file.
